Friday, July 30, 2010

It had been a long day filled with the usual Diva-ness, coffee, the gym a little shopping, plus assorted extras. Mid-way through the afternoon I began looking forward to my bed. I love my bed; I've spent a lot of money on it. Well, I've spent a lot of money on everything, but especially my bed. The way I see it my bedroom is a refuge from reality, a haven in the midst of havoc.

My husband's chosen career of a hand's on general contractor is a physically demanding and my job is, well, exhausting as well. At the end of the day there is nothing more wonderful than closing the big wooden double doors of the master suite, shutting out the world and climbing into the enveloping comfort of 1200 thread-count sheets atop a plush pillow top mattress.

Every morning I carefully make and arrange the bedding on the tufted leather sleigh bed in preparation for the evening's cocooning. We only use king sized flat sheets on the beds in our home, especially on mine. None of that fitted crap on my bed. I hate the way they never fit the mattress and continually work their way off and create bothersome creases and unneeded distractions. Three sheets in all go on; one covering the mattress pad to sleep on, and two more, one on each side of a matelasse quilt. Each morning I remove all of the sheets and the quilt and shake out any little irritants that may have made their way into the sheets over night. You never know what a yorkie or a construction working husband may have fall off of them in the middle of the night. Any foreign material in my bed is strictly prohibited, after all Divas have extremely sensitive skin, remember the Princess and the Pea? So think of that squared.

After the sheets have been shaken and the first two replaced, the quilt is put in place followed by the third sheet. Then the two top sheets and the quilt are folded over and smoothed down revealing the top one third of the bottom sheet. Four pillows are then neatly stacked one on another and arranged on each side of the bed and a down comforter is folded and positioned over the bottom third of the mattress. It's beautiful, refreshing and relaxing just to see.

On this day I was particularly looking forward to my bed. I was drained. Every muscle in my body ached, my joints were stiff and I just wanted to lie in peace and luxuriate in comfort. I made it into the shower and lathered the grime of the day off of me and down the drain. I shampooed my hair and scrubbed my face free of any trace of makeup. I stepped from the steamy shower, my mind continued to focus on my bed. I couldn't wait to smooth lotion on to my still damp body and climb between the sheets. I wasn't sure I could make it; my body ached more with every movement. I was so focused on getting into bed that I didn't recognize the symptoms of a virus beginning to attack my system.

I grabbed the short, white, terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it around my freshly cleaned and moisturized skin. I opened the door leading to the bedroom and there it was, my nirvana.

I pulled off my robe and dropped it at the foot of the bed and pulled back the silken sheets. I sat on the side of the bed, took in a deep breath to blow the day away and eased my body back into the awaiting paradise. I carefully pulled the sheets up around my bare skin and fell back into the welcoming stack of pillows. I sank down surrounded by the softness of cotton and down. That feeling was worth every charge on my credit card.

Only seconds after burrowing in and finding the perfect position I felt it. Just when I though the day was over.

My eyes sprang open.

You have got to be FREAKING kidding me!

There was something in my bed, something small and annoying. I wasn't going to be able to sleep until it was out, but I hurt too badly and was too weary to get out and re-make the entire bed. I couldn't even muster the strength to call for help. Like anyone would help me. Kids can't get it, I'm naked and if I have to get up and put something on I might as well shake out the friggin' bed myself. Jeff won't help. He's laughed at me for twenty three years and loves to brush crumbs, real or imagined, over onto my side of the bed. He's figured out that it's one of my little pieces of craziness.

Shit.

Maybe if I move my legs around I can get it away from me. Maybe I can maneuver it over to Jeff's side, he has skin like an elephant, and he'll never know it's there. So with my left leg I try to brush it over. Wasn't working. Maybe I could grab it with my fingers and flick it somewhere, who cares where, as long as it's no longer in my bed. Couldn't get it. Little bastard seems to have a mind of its own and it had no idea who it was up against, then again, maybe it did.

Perhaps I could ignore it. I turned over on my right side and scoonched a few inches closer to the right edge of the bed. Either it followed me or it was multiplying. Suddenly I realized that I was going to be done in by a crumb, a miniscule piece of annoyance. It was going to win. I was going to lose.

Out of frustration I began to frantically kick at the sheets, I was going to have to re-do them anyway. Pillows were flying and arms and legs thrashing about wildly. In the midst of my convulsive naked tantrum the bedroom door cracked opened. I looked up frozen in a panic-like state as my husband stood staring at me. He had this look on his face that suggested that he was just about to call the men with the white coats and butterfly nets.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

For my husband to use language like that it's got to be something severe, for me it seems a daily ocurrence.

"There are crumbs in my bed!"

It must have been a pitiful site. I knew he was going to think I was a complete loon. It was just a crumb. I began crying. I couldn't even look at him. There I was, flailing around, screaming and crying over a couple of crumbs in my bed. If that wasn't Diva-like behavior, I wasn't sure what was.

To my surprise, he didn't laugh. His look of shock turned into a knowing smile as he picked up my robe and wrapped it around my shaking skin. He told me to sit in the chair and he began to shakeout and re-make my bed. I did see him shake his head a time or two, but he never said anything. When he completed his task he pulled back the covers, and motioned for me to get into the bed. I crept back over, he removed my robe and I climbed into my now crumb free bed. Jeff pulled the covers up, tucked me in and gave me kiss along with a xanex.

He turned the lights down low and quietly closed the door as he left. It was then I heard "You kids will never guess what just happened!"

Traci66 trapped me again. She dangles these little questions in front of me when I'm aimlessly blog surfing and when I'm wondering what in my bipolar diva-ish world to post. She's like a crack dealer to me, although I CAN quit. Yeah, like I can quit talking and shopping? I wonder if she delights in the fact that she's snared me once again?

Traci66 got them from My Little Life. She doesn't use her name so I'm wondering if she's the head of the crack question conspiracy. Or she could be the middle man, I know I'm not PC so shoot me, or maybe she's an undercover crack question detective waiting to entrap us? Hmmmm. Is paranoia a sign of bipolar or Diva? Either way if you need a fix hop on over here to link up and grab the crack.

Yes, it is five question Friday. A great mid-afternoon post while my spinning mind is thinking on more serious topics.

Questions for July 30th
1. Did you have a favorite blanket or toy as a kid? If so, do you still have it?

I had a clown. Thinking back, he was a scary clown but he was my scary clown. His name was Cleety the Clown. He died a horrible, torturous death at the hands of my father not once but twice! First someone that looked strangely like my mother had him put in the attic for some odd reason. Then Dad with his deadly arsenal of bug spray sprayed poor Cleety into oblivion. As if that wasn't enough he took him and tied him up in a plastic garbage bag to slowly suffocate before being tossed into the garbage crusher. No, no, I'm not bitter at all.

2. Do you dream in color?

Technicolor! I had a dream last night about the job we're on and there were all of these papers highlighted with neon orange. I needed a xanex when I woke up!

3. How tall are you? Do you wish you were shorter or taller?

My height is cool with me, although I'd love to be 5 inches shorter so I could wear 5 inch heels and be the same height.

4. If you could have anyone's (celeb or other) voice as the guide on your GPS, who would it be?

I think I'd like James Earl Jones or Jack Nicholson.

5. Do you return your shopping cart to the corral or leave it wherever in the parking lot?

I RETURN them either to the corral or to the store. I have NO tolerance for the lazy and selfish that let those things ram into other people's cars! Well, sometimes I make my kids do it, but it gets done.

It's been a long week, some of you know all of the details, some a few and some have no freaking idea what the heck I'm talking about. I'll sum it up quickly and then end with a celebration!

We have a job, a fantastic job, for incredible people, going south. Long story that ends with us appearing to be losing about 30k through no fault of the client. They are some the most incredible people we've ever met. Business on the line, house on the line, everything on the line here.

Jeff and I had planned on going to Sturgis this year and because of work problems we've had to cancel that. *tear* I really wanted to be on my bike in leather and fringe!

We still aren't really sure what's going on with me and my health. I'm continuing to lose weight and hair. Since I figure I needed good vitamins I asked my daughter to go to the drugstore to pick up some pre-natal vitamins (the big guns), a pregnancy test, and condoms. She freaked. I demanded, She ran away. heehee.....I love getting to my kids.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I told you there would be a quiz on the video. You didn't believe me did ya? Quit nodding your head, you didn't believe me. So here goes all you smarty pants:

1. What was Josiah spelling?

2. What's Nikki's nickname?

3. What does Michael want to study in college?

4. Why am I asking these lame questions?

I'll tell you why. It's been a sucky day and my mind just isn't working. We got hit with some horrible news. All I can say at this time is that there is being a search warrant issued and people that hurt little kids should, in my opinion, be put to death! Imagine the worst squared.

Then there are some pretty big things happening at work. Not sure what's going to happen there, although these are some of the most rockin' clients EVER!

Then I totally turned on Diva mode at dinner tonight. Jeff had been in a confrontational meeting, I'd been dealing with The Geek Squad, and we got news that has pulled our world off of its axis. So what do we decide to do all penniless, uptight, nervous, scared, angry and whatever negative adjective you want to throw in there? We decided to go to dinner to "chill."

I'm not going to name the Australian themed restaurant we went to.

I was ok at first when the snotty little blonde bimbo came up to the table to get our drink order. As long as her over processed snarl she called hair didn't break off and land in my food I could take a little bit of attitude.

Jeff: "I'd like a large Blue Moon."

Bimbo: "We don't have it." She stares at him with a "come on idiot order something" look. She never told him what the did have.

Jeff had to ask....TWICE what they had.

She calls off 2 beers...2! Bubble thought: "WTF blondie. You're about to piss me off." Jeff chooses one, and we order dinner when she returns hours later with the beer.

Me: "I'd like the roast pork please."

Bimbo: "We don't have it" once again no suggestions, just a blank, over bleached, why are you bothering me stare.

Ok, I was pissed. Not only are the out of the very things we came for, the server is a snotty witch. Guess what came next, come on guess?

Diva Fit is what came next! I picked up the menu that had my fork and knife on it and SLAMMED it down on the table, the fork and knife went flying and I said "SHIT!" Well, I didn't really "say" it, I shouted in a way.

Bimbo: "So what do you want?"

"I DON'T WANT ANYTHING." Waa waa waa all the way home, wait isn't that some messed up nursery rhyme? At lease the little piggy in the nursery rhyme had roast beef, I was going to have nothing! It was Messed Up Diva Time. First personality-less bimbo, then no beer, then the sneer, then no pork, then the sneer, then BLAM! Diva clawed her way out of my body and FREAKED!

I don't think I've ever done that before, well at least in public. I asked for the check of all of $6 and said we'd eat elsewhere.

We're walking out of the door when this man, Larry, stops us to see if we were the ones that wanted the roast pork. Great, just great! Now I'm going to be chewed out and asked never to return to bimbo land.

"Yes," I said, "but we've decided to go somewhere else."

Larry was apologetic and regretful. He asked for the full story and I was more than happy to tell him every last detail. Meanwhile Jeff's telling him that we had a tense business meeting. My super-human death ray vision burned a hole right through that little pre-cancerous spot on Jeff's forehead. No need for the dermatologist now buddy boy. He backed off.

I felt my blood pressure rising and I knew that meant my voice would follow suit. "This has nothing to do with the business meeting! It has EVERYTHING to do with Miss Fry Hair that seems to be wanting to smoke crack and bleach her hair more than getting a healthy gratuity!" Ok, so maybe that last sentence was embellished a wee bit.

Larry suggested a similar item and was going to pay for it. The offer was a smart move on his part, and he really seemed sincere but I declined. I don't like having things comped for me. I hate the feeling that people may assume that I was acting up only to get free food.

He continued. We stayed. Our server was incredible, the food outstanding and Diva was a bit embarrassed.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

I'm having all sorts of trouble it seems. Here I am trying to make a vlog since someone called me Mrs. Vlog-a-rama. Not only was I called names, he also said that he believes I can't hula hoop! What's up with that? So this is the pre hooping it up vlog.

So now I ask for help. Look at this terrible video! What's that all about?? It looked great on the, in my opinion, CRAPPY iPhone 4. It looked great in iPhoto. I had a heck of a time getting it exported into iMovie and now my kids' heads are all squished down. I have to be doing something wrong. Anyone with a Mac have any help for me? The other vlogs were done with an iPhone too and all on the Mac. It's also taking forever to buffer. Trouble all the way around! So load it up, go look around while it buffers and come back. There will be a quiz, so I'll know if you watched it or not!

Oh well, what matters is that I wasn't all squished up like they were. You have to watch Anna-Grace's eyes in the first of the clip, as well as listen to what Josiah is spelling. He just learned how to spell that and is VERY proud of himself! What can I say? He's a kid that Cheeseboy would be proud of. That link to Cheeseboy is to his latest post. You have to go read it, he is SO freaking funny. Tell him I said hello!

Really, if any of you have a clue as to what happened with this video, PLEASE let me know!

Monday, July 26, 2010

So I was busted. Yes, my kid got me. I received these fab awards and I posted them last night. Well, well, well, seems Ms. Bipolar, no Diva this time, screwed up. I love getting awards. They mean that someone's thinking of me and that's really cool especially since I spend much of my time, regardless of what my blog may say, thinking of the kids, the business, everything but me. Stop it now! It's true! Well, sort of.

Anyway, both awards ROCKED one was from My Kid Ate My Cheese. Isn't that a cool blog title? Do me a favor, run over and tell her hi!

The next was from From The Mind Of Marvi Marti. She's got a cool thing going on. Well, that's the one that got me in trouble, sort of. The award was awesome like the first one, but a bit more risque. Well, that kind of fits me most days. Until the kidlet asks:

"Mom, what are those Barbies doing?"

"Uh, what Barbies?" me trying to deflect the situation.

"The ones on your page, you know the award."

Here's one of my infamous bubble thoughts "OH SHIT! I am SO not getting out of this one!"

"Mom, what did you mean by "hangin' with?" (yeah, I know that punctuation's all messed up. I need Gucci Mama to help me or maybe Cheeseboy)

Bubble thought "I wonder if I'm going to pass out or puke first?"

"Mom, I know all of those actors you put up except the last one, who's he?"

Bubble thought "Oh Lord it's getting hot in here."

"He's just an old friend."

"But WHO is he? It linked to this page in another language. He HAS to be somebody! His email was there too. Isn't ".gob spanish for .gov?"

Why in the world did I INSIST on the kid learning Spanish?

"Ya know kid, I'll give you $20 to spend at Target if you just STOP asking me questions. Try for more and I'm going to be using a shovel and some bleach"

"Deal."

Dirty, stinking, little kid was blackmailing me! The kid's an extortionist. I am so busted. I am so paying.

Seems Ms. Bipolar let a secret slip, I'm blaming it on the ambien. A few of you saw the post, 99 of you to be exact, and maybe caught it or maybe not. But in my medicated bipolar fog of the night I didn't stop long enough to consider that I could have caused some big trouble for him in his political career. Never mind he's in another country. Point being, I cause trouble for him and yowza, I don't even what to think about me! Even though it was decades ago..... dude has power in his country and there they use their power.

So, in my "extorted mom mode" I removed the post.

Now I feel like an ungrateful rat to my friends, but an embarrassed mom to my kidlet.

Next I want to thank Christy over at I'm Just Sayin... for hosting the "Tuesday Train" blog hop. I've linked up and if I could ever stop long enough to figure out how to add one of those link up things I'd link it up. So click on to her site, she has it up and going. Say hey while you're there and tell her I sent you.

Next on my list is Sage. Seems Sage read a post of mine where, once again not thinking, I said yes I can hula hoop. So what does Sage do? Challenges me to a hula hoop vlog!

His words:

"I dont think you can hoola hoop........

prove it.

Prove it Mrs. Vlog-o-rama!"

I'm hoping that he's going to forget all about that and no gauntlet will be thrown down. How in the world do I get myself into these messes?

The last thing on my list is that I'm a little bit mad at Monkey Man. He confirmed that Papa Haydn's has the best desserts in the WORLD and I've been thinking of them all freaking day long! Well there is a birthday this Wednesday, maybe I'll have to go for Boccone Dolce.

At home with my, then 17 yr old son, kissing the very preemie Baby Diva, Anna-Grace Elizabeth. If you read my last post, the only hyphenating we allow in our home is in the Baby Diva's name.....guess who came up with that beautiful name? I'll let you wonder. Wondering over, it was her Nana.... <3

62. Can you hula hoop?

Of-freaking -course! I grew up in the 60-70!

63. Do you have a job?
I have the job of managing the minions that keep my house in order and my life in chaos

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?

Harley shirt, no surprise there

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?

in and out, several times.....kids I WILL catch you, cuz' I know ALL the tricks! You won't win, I will break you and then you will pull weeds, do dishes, wash laundry, clean bathrooms....wait you already do that stuff. No worries, Mommy will come up with something. I could make you all walk around holding hands all day, I bet that would work!

Friday, July 23, 2010

I rarely, if ever, get controversial on my blog. Today, however, I've been thinking about a lot. STOP with the eye-rolling. There are times I do think on topics besides myself. I'm not really as self absorbed as I appear on my site. Whatever!

Anyway, I usually try to avoid controversy since my family life is filled with drama, seriously we need our own reality show.

My friend Pam made a comment on one of my posts about being "mixed." People call my kids "mixed" all the time. My friend over at Classic New York Story talked about people wanting to know her ethnicity, she's AMERICAN! People also say "those poor kids are so lucky to have you!" Excuse me? We're lucky to have THEM! People here also get totally freaked out because my kids are black AND conservative. OMG! What's the world coming to? They look at me like I'm the evil white slave owner of times past.

While we're on that topic, one day my son came home with this disgusted look on his face. I asked what was wrong. He hissed at me "I just learned what YOUR people did to MY people." Ok, screeching tires, time for a history lesson. We went through slavery through the history of man. He learned exactly who was selling their own people to the Europeans. He learned about each and every culture that had slavery and just who was enslaved. He looked at me and said "They didn't tell us about all of that." Of course not. History is being re-written to further divide the cultures. Pisses me off!

No one in the very liberal, I don't mean democratic, I mean FRINGE left Northwest has a clue how to respond to my daughter driving around with her "Conservative Chick" t shirt on. They freak when my son wears his "un-hyphenated" American shirt. They have caniption fit (how do you spell that? Is it southern slang?) that I don't feed my kids fried chicken, watermelon and greens. I mean how stereotypical and racist is that? And what the hell is with these "tolerant" people keying my daughter's car and stopping her in the parking lot to SPIT on it because her car has a "Conservative Christian American" sticker on it? You certainly won't find my family doing that to a car with a "Darwin Fish" or an "Obama" sticker on it.

I get tired of the fringe, both black and white AMERICANS, telling me that we're evil "European-American's" (don't you DARE hyphenate my nationality!) for "indoctrinating" my kids and making them "Oreos." WTF?

I hear things like "Why don't you teach your kids to talk black?" This from someone that clearly believes that there is some sort of corner on proper English. "Why don't you let your kids wear sagging jeans?" Uh, hello? My kids are taught respect for themselves and those around them.

Then there are those that believe that it's completely acceptable to talk about "chocolate town" and "those people" around me. Check you off my list. You really think that because I'm white it's ok to speak like that around me?

My kids are children of their Creator first, Americans second and then they are Worleys. They don't check boxes on forms unless they circle ALL of the boxes (now that really upsets people).

I also made a reference about tolerance in a former post. I need to explain that a bit I think. I'm a Christian, that in NO way means that I think less of those that choose to believe differently. I respect their beliefs as they should respect mine. I'm not gay. Ok, now two strikes against me. I'm Christian, I'm not gay, I must HATE gays. I don't. Some of my very best friends are gay, I have family that's gay. I choose the people I associate with by their ethics, their character, their empathy. If you vomit tolerance you better damn well tolerate others.

Ok, so I need some help with things to write about today. I'm kind of hung-over from yesterday's trying to keep my sanity thing. That plus I'm formulating a post from the more serious side of myself for this evening. So check back tonight or tomorrow morning. It will be thought provoking and maybe a little controversial.

I got these from Traci66. She pretty much rocks. Hop on over and check her out!

My questions to you:

1. Do you believe in UFOs?

hmmm, I sort of think so, but don't tell my husband.....he'll FREAK out on me!

2. Have you ever seen a UFO?

only in the grocery store in a mu mu

3. Are you superstitious?

no, I believe in faith

4. Do you read horoscopes?

no I don't
5. Do you believe in horoscopes?

not really, but my mom sure did. She was kind of creepy about it sometimes.
6. What sign are you?

Taurus. That should surprise no one.
7. Do you believe in ghost/spirits?

Oh heck yeah, been there done that, seen them got the t-shirt

8. Do you have a ghost story?

Oh yes I do and it's fascinating and it made me believe! It's more of a demonic story actually.

9. Do you believe in life after death?

yes.

10. Do you like blog memes?

So I know what they are, but what the heck does "meme" actually mean?

11. What are some of your favorite blog memes?

I like Qs, I love them. I mean I'm such a freaking moron that I even like filling out those stupid doctor's forms.

12. What is some of your favorite quotes?"Frankly my Dear, I don't give a damn,"

And my most favorite is

"Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinburg? I have more responsibility here than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. I know deep down in places you dont talk about at parties, you don’t want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then question the manner in which I provide it. I prefer you said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand to post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to!”

Rules for Five Question Friday: Copy and paste the following questions to your blog post, answer them (like, totally, duh!), then c'mon back to link up! If you don't have a blog, feel free to leave your answers in the comments of this post or any post along the way!

Questions for Friday July 23rd.

1. What were your school colors? Like I can remember 30 years ago? Maybe if my HS had done a 30 yr reunion I would have remembered! Oh wait, it's coming back to me they were Burnt Orange and White. gag.

2. What's the best compliment you ever received?

"You have Nanny's hands." That's tied with "I have a hot Nana."

3. Do you buy cheap or expensive toilet paper?

Diva and cheap do not happen, not in this lifetime! They can't even be used in the same sentence.

4. Have you ever had a surprise party thrown for you? Or have you had one for someone else?

My girls threw an incredible surprise party for me on my 47th birthday!

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Ok, so most of you read my first post of the day. If you didn't you need to go see my brilliant answers, some were actually humorous, at least in my espresso amped, concerta wired mind of the morning.

Warning: My language in this post is not lady like, nor diva like, so click out now if you'll be offended.

This day went from really great to complete crap in a matter of hours. Skipping one of my meds today WAS NOT a good thing! Martha Stewart would be so disappointed, like I care what the jail bird would think anyway.

I was on the bike riding through town and was beginning to feel a little shaky, not good when your on a Harley. Then an A-hole, I actually think I called him something beginning with "F" and ending with "R" almost killed me on the motorcycle today by trying to zip around me while I was changing lanes. Idiot (again said in Napoleon Dynamite style).

So I'm home and after taking my meds, video chatting with my bestie the Brat and downing a couple of anti-anxiety pills and I think I may actually live. It was a close one though. I almost, I mean within seconds before the Brat calling, I was ready to call 911.

The Green-Eyed Brat

Isn't she gorgeous? She's SO much fun too, and she gets me!

A good thing that happened today was that when I left the doctor's office I went to get on my Harley.

Isabella and me

Anyway back to my story. I walked out of the doctor's office carrying all my riding gear and was dressed in Biker Chick, uh, Biker S**T (add an L and a U) wear and this really hot guy comes up to me and says "Wow, you're every man's dream looking like that AND riding a Harley." So I was feeling I was all that. Then I got a voicemail and it was nothing, just a reminder that I needed to drop off a check with my insurance guy. I freaking began crying. WTH?

I knew that the crying, the shaking and the general feeling of doom was not a sign that I should be riding more. I went home and continued to decline. Bipolar really SUCKS ASS sometimes! But after a couple of the anti-anxiety whatever they were I decided to tell you a few things that REALLY piss me off!

This is how I felt today. Actually that would be me if he had blonde hair, platinum and diamond jewelry and a white and pink Harley.

HATES:

Having bipolar and having to be med dependent.

Someone telling me to "buck it up" because that's what he'd do. F that crap!

People telling me that my kids are "lucky to have us." Uh, idiots, We're lucky to have them! Well, most of the time.

People that call my kids "mixed." They are AMERICAN! (Thanks Pam for reminding me of how stupid that comment is.)

People ragging on me and thinking that I'm a witch because I drive a Mercedes. Hello, my dad begged me to buy my mom's Jaguar when she died. He couldn't sell it to a stranger and he couldn't see it in the garage. I bought it. I couldn't afford it and rolled it into my mortgage. I traded it for the Mercedes. So see, driving my car does not mean that am anything but a smart consumer. The warranty was about to run out on the Jag and it had a really good trade in value. Mercedes is an incredibly made car. Smart move on my part. NOT a status statement!

When kids don't understand when I say shut the heck up or I'll get the duct tape that I mean business!

Did I mention that a lot of the time I really hate being bipolar? Except the doc says it adds to my creativity?

Not being able to legally duct tape my kids mouths, just for short periods of time. Just kidding, mostly.

Having to get up to pee. That gets really irritating.

That my dog and one of my granddaughters are crazy for my husband and NOT me unless i give them treats. *tear*

That the Brat lives so freaking far away.

That my sons-in-law refuse to allow me to have my picture taken with the Gypsy Jokers. Ok, so I admit that is a rebellious thought on my part. They guys are really scumbags. Look 'em up, scary dudes along the lines of the Vagos who(m) I detest!

Clothes that smell like mildew, kids that wear clothes that smell like mildew, mildew in general.

I really think that my cognitive ability, my spelling and my writing in proper form have declined because of the medications I have to endure.

Some of my closest friends are internet friends and I haven't had the chance to meet them. Karyn, Terrie, Stephanie, oh hell I'm going blank....dang meds. There are many more! :(

People that can't get over that I'm a chick that packs and rides a Harley.

Intolerance in all forms.

Badly made lattes. Jolene makes the most incredible lattes EVER! Perfect foam! Maybe I should switch to cappuccinos? I that even spelled correctly?

That my parents were taken from me too soon.

I miss my brothers

Ok, my ranting for the day is over. Time for a nap, that was exhausting but it sure felt good to get it out!

I'm sitting here in Starbucks all hyped on espresso shots and Concerta and saw these Qs over at The Adoption of Jane. I really love her. They look like fun and I loved her answers, so I decided that it would be a fun, pre-motorcycle day post. Ok, I'm diving in!

1. What is the most common question that you are asked (in life) that is none of the questioner's business?

Well one would be "Are you Mormon?" See I have a crap-load of kids. Never mind that my home looks like the United-Nations, (w/o all the crappy politics), they still assume. NO I am not Mormon. (Can you use a parenthetical thought with commas?) I have to add one more just because it pisses me off and that would be "WOW, how tall are you? You must have played basketball!" Ok my reply should be "WOW are you a jockey?" or "You must have been a sumo wrestler!" Why on earth would I EVER go up to someone very short and make a big to-do over it?

2. Who makes you happiest right now?

Right now, Geodon, look it up if you haven't heard of it. No, it's not illegal!

3. Would you consider yourself to be spoiled?

Ok, I'll refer you to the title of my Blog.

4. Do you want to be famous one day?

Are you kidding? I AM in our little town. Everyone knows my family. I get all the time "You're the mom of the WORLEY kids." That one makes me shiver. I also get "You're the one with the rockin' pink Harley." Ok so I added the "rockin'"

5. Could you handle being in the military?

No, but my kids can. They call me various names associated with drill leaders or dictators.

6. Do you believe in Karma?

What goes around.....

7. What’s the stupidest thing you ever did with your cell phone?

Uh, I gave my iPhone 3gs to my husband because his was stolen and he needed it for business. Now I have the CRAPPY iPhone 4.
8. Who knows a secret or two about you?

My Brat knows ALL.

9. Who is the most experimental person you know?

Me, but I think I'm in a tie with my "not so bright at the moment" 25 yr old son.

10. Last thing you did that ticked off your S/O (or if not in a relationship) most recent S/O?

shopping, shopping and more shopping, or when I put my hand over his mouth when he began to go off on the officer that was doing his job by stopping SPEEDERS!

11. Have you ever purposely been irritating to someone? If yes, explain.

My kids all the time.
12. What's crazy to you?

Uh, me. That's why I'm on meds.

13. Who (other than the three of us TT writers) writes the most interesting blog?

I really hate this question because I love all, well, most....uh, some of the blogs I follow. Yes, I love yours if your reading this.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I had this light-hearted post all ready to go today. Then we had Isaiah Jeffrey's 6th birthday "celebration." Every July 19th our family comes together for dinner and to release balloons with messages into the heavens for the angels to carry to our baby.

Isaiah was taken from us when he was exactly 12 weeks old. The birth "father" failed to disclose he had the herpes virus. My daughter was infected and had no symptoms. Isaiah was infected. We found out when he was about 10 days old. A few days later we were told that he wouldn't be with us long. From the day he was born the child was never put down. He was held every second of every day. We had a lifetime of love to give him and a very short time to do so. He died here at my home during dinner on October 11, 2004. When he left a part of all of us left as well.

My daughter's guilt is overwhelming, as is mine. It doesn't matter that there was nothing we could do, it's crushing. Many people ask us how we can live through the situations that our family faces. It's easy really. Once you've lost your child and grandchild nothing seems as dire. You look at things with a new perspective. Yes, at times our struggles seem to be more than we can handle, especially now. But we remember tiny Isaiah and losing him and we know that if we can survive that, we can survive anything.

I know that many of you have differing beliefs than my family and I do. I respect yours and I ask that no matter your belief, you would be willing to watch and listen to the video and the words spoken. Please, for Isaiah.

I'm going to ask something that I never ask. Please re-post this, re-tweet this, share it. We had no idea that my daughter was infected and we had no idea that herpes can be devastating for babies. It can kill them. Help us get the word out. Be informed, be tested, be cautious. There are innocent lives at stake.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

On the way to Canada for the wedding of my friends Sean and Diana. Thought I'd take you all along for the ride. Watch the eyelashes girls, it's Latisse. No, I have no sponsorship anything with them I just think their product rocks. Also you know how there are times that, I can't believe I'm EVEN mentioning her name in my Vlog, but you know sometimes how *cough* Hilliary Clinton can look somewhat "ok" in pics and on TV and other times she looks like, well, like she does? Well that's how I feel in this Vlog. It had been a late night and an early morning and what you see is pretty much what you're going to get.

Also, very few beers on my part were injured in making this vlog. Sean, however, takes the fifth. Wait he's Canadian, can he take the fifth?

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Well, if you're looking for any proper use of spelling, grammar or our English language language, I suggest you click on out now! I mean NOW!

Humor and sarcasm tonight pretty much flew out the window this morning and I haven't been able to find them again. You know me, I will hunt them down and drag them back kicking and screaming sorta like I do with some of my kids.

Anyway, I know that I usually try to convey to you the lighter side of my life. Right now I can't do that. I'm writing tonight mainly for me and for some of my bipolar peeps that may feel lost. I tend to write upbeat and sometimes I think I feel like I make other people that suffer from the disorder uncomfortable.

Remember the new med the doc put me on that I raved about? Geodon? While I still think it's fantastic, I'm really getting worried and have called in the troops. I called my psych twice today, so unlike me. Then both my husband and daughter spoke with her, Ok, now I really know that there's a problem. I even have someone that I trust and admire checking my posts for weird or any signs of me not being me. I won't link to her tonight because I don't want to her to have her "Goddess Stature" tarnished in any way because she's looking after a loon. But I love and trust her more than almost anyone. But Brat's still my girl especially of we should we both turn exclusively to the fairer sex. Brat is smokin'!

While I feel I have myself back in some ways, my outgoing-ness, friendliness, and over all feeling happy, it's began scaring me two days ago with it culminating today while I sat at Starbucks waiting for my hair appointment I realized that much more was going on. I wasn't just talking I was chattering like that damned Chatty Cathy doll that scared the hell out of me when I was a girl! Even with the batteries removed that little "BLEEP" kept talking!

That wasn't all, I was restless, I couldn't sit still, I can't read blogs, I cant even freaking spell! I began trembling, I knew I couldn't drive. My awesome doc made me find someone to come pick me up, she didn't want me driving either.

I had already taken two ativan, doc said take two more AND another Geodon then and another at dinner. I'm not really sure how much ativan I took since I could never remember if I had taken it. Well being I woke up at 8 this evening I think I pretty much missed dinner and if I know my kids at all they licked their plates clean as well as all of the containers of food! OR, the little urchins cracked open a can of (shiver) Chef Boyer Dee or however the hell you spell his stupid carb filled name. I mean why would I ever had bought my kids, 1)canned food and 2)canned food with a fat man on the label?

Back to me since we ARE talking about me. Here I am several hours later after sleeping the afternoon and most of the night away and I'm eating cheese, cracker and olive plate my kids made me and drinking a beer.

I will hope for better skies tomorrow. This med thing along with the enormous about of financial stress at work and everything else is making me restless. I think I just might crash a friends private island as long as I can bring my laptop and untraceable phone.

For those your who are wondering and I know that you are, *disclaimer* look away or exit this blog if you don't want to know what I'm about to be very blunt about* 1 , 2 , 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Too late, If you're here I guess you have to read it. I have not used a razor, nor has the idea entered my mind, it has entered others minds, but not mine. I am not suicidal, I am not anywhere near considering overdosing. So all that is good. I guess the only thing I have let to ask is it safe to take ativan, lunesta and whatever the heck that stuff is called with a Blue Moon Beer?

So the next question is, uh, was there even a first? Oh well the question is what will tomorrow look like? Guess only time will tell.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I alluded to the topic of this post on Facebook. I’m just now getting around to it since I’m STILL trying to learn my new Mac. Well that, and the fact that with all of the heathen kids we have the odds of something traumatic, dramatic and/or chaotic happening is more than a mere possibility. It’s a probability.

Last week I posted a vlog of my trip to the river with some of the afore mentioned heathen kids. It was a lot of fun. It took us about five hours to make the float from the jumping in spot to the falling out, Lewis and Clark trail, water bottle dropping, lost in the woods, needing Sacajawea, never listening to Karli’s directions again spot.

This last weekend I had the brilliant idea of floating the river with my stressed husband. I thought it would be a nice relaxing time for him to forget about work, money, the kids and enjoy the beautiful Clackamas River. Being a Diva and all, my ideas are usually spot on. Or maybe that’s my bipolar talking and my ideas really suck.

Jeff came home from church Sunday morning while I was at Starbucks. He began filling the rafts with air. When I pulled into the driveway and saw that he was home I scurried down to Rite-Aid to get a waterproof beach bag, some water and snacks. I was waiting in line to get a prescription filled when my phone rang.

“Teri?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh, Rite-Aid, like I told you.” I admit that question caused me to begin to get a wee bit of Diva attitude.

“The raft has a hole in it.”

“So, there are four more.” More Diva emerged.

“Well I thought you should know.”

By now I’m a little more than irritated. He knew where I was. There were other rafts that could have been filled while he was calling to tell me the first one had a hole!

I got home, we packed up and took off to drop my car at the landing spot. This is where I’m going to bullet form since I’m not really sure how to link this all together.

Dropped off my car.

Drive about 10 miles to drop off the truck and get to the boat ramp.

Sheriff at boat ramp issuing citation after citation for alcohol, no life vests and no whistles.

We have none of the above.

I try to get my not so happy husband to move it and get in the river before the river cops get us. I was NOT going to drive 10 miles back to get my car and go home with Grouchy.

I get in the raft and Jeff pushes me out into the current.

Jeff jumps in water to hop in raft.

Jeff screams.

“Why didn’t you tell me the water was this cold?”

My bubble thought ( I have LOTS of bubble thoughts in my life) “Uh, we live in freaking Oregon. Have you EVER heard of snow melt?” My actual words “It’ll warm up. It’s not bad at all.”

We paddle more into the current.

We hit rapids, Jeff hits butt on huge boulder and freaks out.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me there were boulders in the river?”

My bubble thought “Are you an idiot? Look around. There are boulders everywhere! It’s a R I V E R.” I actually said “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I’ll keep a look out”

Jeff paddles like he’s in an Olympic race.

We’re speeding ahead of all of the relaxed floaters that are ENJOYING the ride.

We hit rapids again.

Jeff hits butt a second time.

“I’ve had enough of this shit! If I get hit again I’m out!”

Time for another bubble thought “Great! I left my xanex in the car! Idiot!” (thought in Napoleon Dynamite style)

I look at him and wonder where the heck he thinks we’re going to get out. I mean which cliff of boulders looks the easiest to climb?

He calms down and we float for what must have been 2 minutes.

Jeff begins paddling again.

Jeff asks “Why didn’t you tell me that I was going to have to work so hard?”

I respond “The kids and I floated the entire way with no paddles. Just relax. We’ll be fine.” My bubble thought “I’m about to rip that damn oar out of your hand and hit you in the head with it if you don’t stop being a baby!”

I finally realize that we’re going to make a 4 hour float in about 15 minutes.

Jeff’s sweating it up paddling away. I mean, who the heck are we racing?

We hit a HUGE rock shaped like a chair. Jeff gets dropped in it in a way that we’re not getting out any time soon.

We think about situation.

I suggest that if he would come over to my side of the raft his side would lift off of the rock.

It works and he paddles away. Another brilliant Diva idea, thank you very much!

I thought I saw a huge hawk, but it was a blur since we were making the NAS-boat tour. Kinda like he takes us to look at Christmas lights: leave house, zoom, back home in 10 minutes flat.

Hit rapids and raft fills with water.

Jeff wants to know how we’re going to get the water out of the raft.

I stare and wonder if he realizes that we’re on a RIVER.

He begins scooping water out with his hands and asks why I didn’t bring a cup.

I stare at him.

When he’s satisfied enough water is out of the raft he relaxes.

I take a couple of pictures.

We hit rapids and raft fills with water. Hello? We’re on a RIVER!

We stop on a beach to empty the raft of water. By this time the spray sunscreen can is once again looking like a weapon to me.

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About This Blog

I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 in 2008, however, after years of therapy, and treatment, my doctors, victims assistance, and other officials, have now convinced me that I don't have bipolar, but rather severe PTSD.

I'm now closing old books and opening new ones. I'm embarking on a new journey, a new life awaits, and I'm ready for the adventures yet to come, and to seek out all the world has to offer.